I cannot go any further with this blog business without dedicating a post to my wife, Sharon. Without her backing me up, I would be in very bad shape in just about every respect. Without Sharon, I would quite literally not have a clue.
You get the idea. I am a hopeless know-nothing. Sharon is my guide, my secretary, my advocate, and something much, much more.
She is with
me. She supports me, cares for me, scolds me if I need scolding, nags
me if scolding isn't enough. She sympathizes. She empathizes. She
understands if I feel bad, she keeps me moving on. Holds my hand, hugs me, shares the burden.
What kind of cancer do I have? What did that CT scan show? What did the pathology report say? Sharon knows. She asked. And asked. And asked, until she got an answer she was satisfied with.
What stage is my cancer at? I have no idea, didn't know there was such a thing. Sharon researched everything she could find on the 'Net. She learned, and pestered doctors and nurses and anybody who knew anything, to give her straight answers.
In fact, our Peterborough doctor complimented her on the quality of her questions. High praise indeed.
As we moved on towards the Toronto phase of our journey, she took on more and more, fielding constant phone calls about appointments, accommodations, transportation options. Returning calls. Arguing with unhelpful helpers, prying missing information out of vague receptionists, finding out for sure. Where should we go, when should we be there, how will we get there, what will we be doing when we get there?
Oh, help.
Sharon has a binder. Her binder contains everything we have collected since this thing started. As you might imagine, it is a very big binder. Flyers, pamphlets, literature, books. Contacts, web addresses, and stuff I can't even hope to remember. Doctors' names, office locations, imaging sites, floor numbers, room numbers, addresses and telephone numbers. Schedules, consult notes, questions-to-be-asked, things to do today, tomorrow, next week.
This is really what having cancer is all about. It all becomes too much. It is overwhelming.
So this post is for Sharon. She is at my side all the way, whatever may come. I don't have to face this alone. Alone must be terrible indeed
She loves me.
And I love her, very much.
Alone MUST be very terrible indeed - what a wonderful thing, having a partner can mean - way beyond what we think at the beginning of our relationships! This is such a heartfelt and lovely sentiment you wrote, Pat! Enjoy your couple of days at home!
ReplyDeleteIsn't it interesting how our truer selves become apparent in our times of struggle. Sharon is becoming more resourceful and organized, giving and caring ( if that is even possible). Pat, even more courageous, articulate, positive and loving. This is an incredible journey for you and is bringing out the best in you both. Thank you for sharing this with us all.
ReplyDeleteI wrote something yesterday after reading this the first time and see that it has not uploaded. In essence, here's what I'd written:
ReplyDeleteI wish we could help more, do more, be there more and yet we know this is your journey, yours and Sharon's. If you need or want anything, shout out from your canoe, we're along the shore, close by.
Love is the most important and most true expression of ourselves. Often it is relegated to the wings while we play out the other feelings that seem to be so relevant and honest and demand our attention. But love is what lies waiting to be felt and then shown, often to the one we have challenged with the rest of ourselves.
Pat, you have a gem in Sharon, an artist and passionate observer, like you. Your writing is so clear and focused and poetic. Keep on writing your life...
Charles